"Close." There's something that would make it a hell of a lot better, and that's if she was right here in his arms. But this will do. For someone who's smoked since he was... what, fifteen? this is the longest he's gone without it. Funny how a guy can think he can't possibly get along without his favorite crutch only to find out it doesn't matter so much after all.
Especially when a better crutch comes along, and that... is how he feels about Beth and Junior.
"But yeah, I think I could get used to it all over again."
It's a sweet little moment, seeing Junior's face pressed up against Beth's like that
(click)
and it isn't so damn hard to commit that scene to memory, even when the thought of a way back home sitting in the back of the closet keeps nagging at his thoughts. Fuck it: whatever happens happens and they'll either go sometime or they won't, and it'll only happen for a good enough reason and he knows it. He also knows that being out here's changed him, probably forever if not for the better. For a lack of a better way to phrase it, he's been on forced pilgrimages before but this... well, shit: he has the best damn reasons in the whole world to keep putting one foot in front of the other and wake up every morning, and they're both here in this room with him. Everything else is just circumstance but Beth and Junior... they're his family and he's had precious little of that his whole life and isn't ready to give it up.
Nope, the bar can wait. This is what counts. One smoke ring hits its target and floats lazily through another before he turns toward Beth and holds out the lit cigarette to her. And he smiles, because he's about to say something he hasn't had much of a chance to say the past year.
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Especially when a better crutch comes along, and that... is how he feels about Beth and Junior.
"But yeah, I think I could get used to it all over again."
It's a sweet little moment, seeing Junior's face pressed up against Beth's like that
(click)
and it isn't so damn hard to commit that scene to memory, even when the thought of a way back home sitting in the back of the closet keeps nagging at his thoughts. Fuck it: whatever happens happens and they'll either go sometime or they won't, and it'll only happen for a good enough reason and he knows it. He also knows that being out here's changed him, probably forever if not for the better. For a lack of a better way to phrase it, he's been on forced pilgrimages before but this... well, shit: he has the best damn reasons in the whole world to keep putting one foot in front of the other and wake up every morning, and they're both here in this room with him. Everything else is just circumstance but Beth and Junior... they're his family and he's had precious little of that his whole life and isn't ready to give it up.
Nope, the bar can wait. This is what counts. One smoke ring hits its target and floats lazily through another before he turns toward Beth and holds out the lit cigarette to her. And he smiles, because he's about to say something he hasn't had much of a chance to say the past year.
"Want some?"